Crypt
by ObsidianWolves
Summary: Scott Parnell has always cared about Nora Grey, but he will always come second, or maybe third, for her. This is Silence told from Scott's perspective, going more in-depth in his character and exploring the world of the Black Hand, his relationship with Patch, and much more while following the original story line.
1. Chapter 1

_Damn it!_ Another dead end. Between the nonexistent progress, the slow internet, and the cold coffee, my mood was quickly deteriorating. For three months, I'd been digging bone-deep in hopes of finding a lead on Nora Grey's disappearance. I knew the who and I could guess the why, but I couldn't find where she'd been taken. I had thought I would find information in this forum, but the minute I started asking questions, the whole site had disappeared, wiped off the face of cyberspace.

Stepping out of the dingy Internet cafe, I yawned and glanced at my watch. The silver Rolex had been a birthday gift from Mom. I'd had to leave her and home in order to keep the Black Hand away from her, and the watch had been the only reminder of her I could take with me. It was a bittersweet present. On one hand, she had given it to me because she trusted me to keep it safe. On the other, she told me it had been a gift from my father. Yeah, right.

I was Nephilim, half human, and half fallen angel. My father was a monster who thought nothing of seducing a young woman and then walking away without looking back, leaving her with the fallout. Mom had lied, but I got it. If I was her, I wouldn't want me to know about my real father. I had gifts - mind control, accelerated healing, and, oh yeah, immortality, but I'd only learned about them recently. Nora had literally taken me off the ledge and explained everything. I wasn't crazy, she'd explained. No, I was normal for what I was. I owed her my life and probably my sanity.

Oh Nora. I gazed up at the night sky, which was decorated with glittering stars. They looked distant and cold, only adding more weight to the hefty load in my chest. _Where are you?_ A fine job I was doing, trying to save her. After nearly three months, I'd been slowly boiling over from frustration. Asking too few questions would get me nowhere, but asking too many would attract unwanted attraction.

I was out of leads. I was a wanted man, and there were no Nephilim friends in Coldwater that I could turn to - or anywhere, for that matter. Time was dragging on, and the longer Grey was missing, the better the chance that something had happened to her.

The wind picked up, musing my blonde hair and sending a few loose flyers tumbling through the air. One would have hit me in the face if I hadn't grabbed it with lightning - fast Nephilim reflexes. The second came to rest at my feet.

The flyer in my hand had an all-too-familiar photograph of a girl with unruly red hair and smokey grey eyes. She had bright red spots on her cheeks, and the camera had caught her mid-laugh. The bold, serious caption under the photo asked, **Have you seen this girl?** _(Not enough)_ and was followed by a number to call.

I felt a pang in my chest. Beautiful, sweet Nora Grey. This wasn't fair. It wasn't her fault that she had been swept up into my world. She was innocent. If he hadn't strolled into her life like he owned it, she would be safe at home.

The second flyer was an ad for Delphic Amusement Park's newly renovated ride, a roller coaster called the Archangel.

There was nothing good about Delphic. After last summer, where Nora and I had almost been killed by a delusional fallen angel - then again, they were all delusional - I had avoided the place like the plague.

Underneath the bright lights and festive music was a very different world. A city of fallen angels lurked underground, plotting and biding their time.

But one thing gave me pause. Delphic was swarming with fallen angels, true, and that included the one person who could help me. I hated Patch Cipriano, there was no question about that. He was an arrogant, entitled bastard who thought that he had the right to mess with good, innocent people's lives. He also wanted Nora found almost as much as I did, and he had resources I didn't.

I could ask him for help, couldn't I? If Grey was involved, he would say yes.

A spark of insane hope began to glow in my chest. _Am I really considering this?_

Patch was fallen, no different from my pathetic excuse for a father. He cared about Grey though, or at least he said he did.

Taking a deep breath, I turned and began walking around the way I'd come, towards the coast and Delphic Beach. With every step, the weight in my chest began to loosen and lift, eaten away by the crazy _what if_ that was beginning to take root in my head. I was headed straight into the lion's den, but I would do anything to have Grey back safe.

It was the least I could do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for taking the time to read this! This scene was slightly longer than I expected, so I'm posting it and chapter three separately. I hope it's not too slow so far. I'm using the first couple of chapters to set everything up, but I'll sneak in some action and hints. :)**

My heart was pounding in my chest. Head low, I ducked among the buildings and alleys without daring to look back behind me. I could hear the thuds of pursuing footsteps hot on my trail. As I approached the intersection, Another tall, hooded figure stepped out of the shadows to my right and began making his - or her, I couldn't tell - way towards me. I picked up my pace, a trickle of sweat running down my collar.

Stupid, stupid. Why had I let myself be in this situation? The Z had seemed like a haven, a world of guessing and games where I could make or break my fortune in a heartbeat. And who knows? Maybe I would meet my father there. He and I needed to talk.

I'd never meant to rack up debt. I'd never thought I'd have to take a loan from a local businessman. I'd hoped I could pay it back, although maybe not with interest. It looked like I had been wrong, dangerously so.

Another figure rose out of the gloom to my left, and I broke into a full run. Even as the ground blurred under my feet and the buildings flew by, the trio kept up easily. This was bad, very bad. If they could keep up even as I ran at uncanny speed, they were either Nephilim, which was an issue, or they were fallen, which was a nightmarish idea. I had no choice but to keep running and hope that they gave up before I ran out of fuel.

Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I twisted and wove down streets and between buildings. No matter what I tried, the trio stayed with me. Fueled by fear and grim determination, I doubled my speed, thundering down the street. My pursuers still kept pace.

Suddenly, a tall brick wall loomed in front of me. For the industrial district, it was relatively new, not yet covered with graffiti and sporting a large **KEEP OUT** sign. Turning to the right, I found a tall building blocking my way, and to the left, a seedy motel with flickering lights in my path. Spinning around, heart in my throat, I saw the three Nephilim standing in my way, trapping me. My stomach was turning over, my brain screaming at me to flee. I swallowed, hoping that the Nephilim hadn't seen it, and curled my hands into fists. "What do you want?" I demanded.

 _You know what we want._ The answer came in my head, echoing around me mind. Swallowing my confusion, I continued, "I don't have your damn money right now. I just need another week, and I can pay you back." There was no answer from the group, but I could sense their disapproval. "Call me tomorrow, and we can talk this over rationally."

"Enough," The word was spoken out loud this time, in a deep male voice that commanded attention. "I don't have the time to play games with fools."

Two of the Nephilim grabbed me by the shoulders and pinned me against the ground. I fought, lashing out and kicking, swearing and screaming empty threats. The two guards ignored me, indifferent to my struggles.

There was a hissing sound, and the third Nephil approached me with something in his hand. It glowed white hot, and he held it uncomfortably close to my face so I could make out the imprint of a black handprint in the metal. "It's not personal," He soothed as the ring dipped lower, closer to my collarbone. "You'll understand once I explain everything."

The metal met my skin with a sickening sizzling sound, and the smell of burning flesh, my burning flesh, snaked through the air. An explosion of heat and pain made my vision flash white as I arched up against the ground. I couldn't think, couldn't talk. The only thing I knew was pain, and the only sounds I could form were agonized screams.

 **What did you guys think? Please review and give me your feedback! Expect the next chapter fairly soon, so keep posted!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! As always, thank you for reading and please review. :)**

I woke up with a start, jolting upright in bed. My skin was clammy and hot with sweat. For a moment, my eyes darted around the room, unable to process anything but the memory I had just relived. It took me a few minutes to take in the large mirror on the far wall, the bathroom door, and the low bed I was lying in with not-quite-clean white sheets. When I remembered where I was, I lay down and groaned, rubbing my eyes.

I had been planning to make the trip to Delphic to see if I could hunt down Patch, who was notoriously difficult to find if he wanted to be left alone. But by the time I had left the internet cafe where I had been doing research on Nora's case, it had been almost two in the morning. I hadn't been in any shape to go looking for a powerful criminal in the heart of fallen angel territory. I also couldn't go to any decent hotel because first, I didn't have the money, and second, I wasn't going to risk running into any of the Black Hand's men. My best bet was this run-down dump. Here, at least a guy paying in cash wasn't out of place.

Checking my watch, I saw that it was only about six a.m. Four hours? My nightmare had felt like it had lasted an eternity. I wasn't going to complain, though. This was more sleep than I got most nights now. It was hard to sleep in caves, and the threat of capture, torture, and execution did tend to keep me up at night.

The sun was beginning to come up, and the crisp fall air wafted in through the slightly open, also dirty window. I wished I could stop to admire the sunrise, maybe borrow a quick coffee from a cafe, but there wasn't time and I didn't want to hang around and be seen. It took me a split second to chose between the door and the window before I jumped down through the window and landed neatly on my feet, checked to see if anyone saw, and set off. The only witness was a raggedy bag lady with greasy brown hair and a tattered purple jacket. She wasn't going to be telling anyone.

My backpack of meager belongings slung over my shoulder, I strolled down the sidewalk. School was in session, and I got few strange looks. That's right. Just another student on his way to Coldwater High.

I couldn't even go to school anymore. It wasn't like I had a lot of friends, but I would have liked to learn something. Maybe it was stupid, but I hoped that after all this was over, I could live as normal a life as possible.

Once I neared the downtown intersection, I slipped between two stores and down a side street. The Black Hand's soldiers were everywhere, and it would be too easy to be spotted by a Nephil commuting to work. These back streets were mostly empty, and I could handle anyone who tried something.

"... embarrassment to the Black Hand,"

I froze, ducking into an alleyway and pressing myself close into the shadow of a building. The telltale shiver that warned me of approaching Nephilim and fallen shot down my spine and turned my blood to ice. The Black Hand's men? Or something worse?

Two men walked around the corner, carrying a long black bag between them. Is that a body bag? I felt sick. It looked about the right shape and size.

And there was definitely something in it. They were handling the bag with care, trying not to bump or jostle it.

"Just between me and you," the first man continued, "why let the bitch go? We got our information. The girl's a bad apple. Just best to get rid of her, you know? Take her out of the picture before she gives her father a bad rep."

The second man shrugged. "Some blood oath was involved. Think the Black Hand has to cut her loose."

"Whatever man. Just doesn't make sense,"

"You gonna criticize the Black Hand?"

"Nah man. I'm just saying..."

Were they talking about Nora? As the pair began walking down the street, I hovered uncertainly. If they knew something about Grey, following could pay off. If I continued on to Delphic, Patch might be willing to help me.

Patch or two strangers? A fallen archangel who hated my guts or Nephilim soldiers who would kill me without a second thought?

I hurried afternoon the men. By now, I saw with foreboding, we had reached the graveyard.

Sticking to the shadows, I watched as the Nephilim unzipped the body bag and dumped a limp, doll like figure on the ground. I caught a brief glimpse of fiery red hair before she tumbled out of sight. On the way out, One man nudged the girl with his foot.

"Shame about that relationship of hers," he mused. "Pretty little thing. I'd hit that." His comment sent a burst of bright, irrational jealousy through me. What a creep. How old is he?

I waited anxiously for the men to leave before hurrying over to the girl. My stomach dropped as I took in her features. Hair like fire in a heart shaped face and a small, willowy frame. Grey. Oh my god, it's Grey.

I could barely process all the emotions spinning through my head. I was relieved, happy, of course, but also strangely sad. Grey was back, and where Nora went, Patch followed. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to have her back. Swallowing envy, I bent down and checked her pulse. When I felt it, sluggish but there nevertheless, I let out the breath I'd been holding for months.

I wasn't a doctor, and I couldn't show up at a hospital with a girl who had been missing for three months. It was too much attention I couldn't afford. I scooped Grey up in my arms, cradling her against my chest and walked closer to the front of the graveyard. Someone was bound to find her.

In a moment of poetic justice, I set Grey down by a headstone that I had visited too many times before. The inscription stated the painful name. Harrison Grey, a devoted husband and father. Died March 6, 2008.

I'm sorry. I silently thought again. "See?" I whispered to myself. "I kept my oath. She'll be safe, I promise." A nearby stone angel watched me dispassionately.

It killed me to leave Grey like that, but there wasn't anything I could do, and sticking around could end badly for both of us. Turning away, I saw something on the ground. Reaching down, I picked up a sleek, shadowy black feather the length of my arm. Puzzled, I turned it over. Where had this come from? Obviously it wasn't from a bird, and I couldn't imagine an angel coming down here. Oh well. I stashed the feather in my backpack.

Maybe it would come in handy.


	4. Chapter 4

"Roberts!" The barista shouted over the crowded hubbub of Enzo's Bistro. "Grande cappuccino for Roberts!" I took my drink from her outstretched hand with a murmur of thanks before making my way to the back of the cafe. Roberts was another fake name in a growing parade of made-up identities that I no longer bothered to keep track of. I could never be too careful.

The cup was almost too hot, burning my skin, but I couldn't care less. Earlier today, I'd tried to visit Nora at the hospital, but they'd turned me down at the front desk. The crabby receptionist had insisted that Nora had a strict no-visitors policy at the moment with no exceptions. I had been tempted to go ahead and mind-trick the woman into letting me past, but somehow it didn't feel right. Grey wouldn't want me to mess with someone's head.

A small TV flashed from a picture of Grey - the same one on the flyer I'd found - to a unnaturally blonde female anchor. The TV was silenced, but I could get the just of what she was saying. Nora's strange return had been on all the local news stations, complete with shots of her sobbing mother and relieved best friend.

No details had been released yet, and I had been hoping to see her in person rather than learn about them over the news. But beggars can't be choosers, I guess. Once Grey was released, I'd be able to find a way to talk with her.

I couldn't imagine that there was anyone out there who had missed her more than I had. I

something to relax and take my mind off the last few days. And there was only one place nearby that fit the bill.

Bo's was more crowded than usual, considering that it was a Thursday night. Then again, it wasn't like anyone who I'd find here had anything better to do. I paid the cover fee and made my way past the poker players and the boorish paintball enthusiasts, descending into the basement. The neon sign for Oz's Pool Hall flickered and blinked in the dim lighting of the room. It was much quieter down here than it was upstairs, and the clink of cues against pool balls and the dull murmur of conversation were the only sounds in the oak-paneled room.

I approached a small group that was setting up their game. They were classic Bo's clientele with dark clothes, biker boots, and beady, hostile eyes. What mattered was that they were human. "Can I join?"

The group assessed me and, without a word, made room for me in the circle. For the next hour or so, I got lost in the game. The click of the balls and the debate over different shots to take was enrapturing, and I felt perfectly at ease even as I lost some of my precious cash. It was only when a telltale shiver began to inch down my spine that I stopped and stood stock still, trying to pinpoint the location of whoever had alerted me. Someone I didn't want to run into was close. Too close.

I tried to play it cool, retaining my original ease as I continued to play. But every moment, I was on edge, my thoughts racing. What if some of the Black Hand's men had followed me here? Had a fallen angel come looking for trouble?

The game ended too soon, and I took a seat at the bar. I only ordered a cherry coke, but something told me I wouldn't have carded me anyway.

Someone sat down next to me. "What'll it be?" The bartender asked.

"Just a Seven up,"

"You got it,"

I could recognize that deep, cool voice anywhere. Turning, I saw a tall boy with mused black hair and eyes that were chips of obsidian staring back at me, his expression coldly amused. "Hello, Scott. Fancy meeting you here."

You probably planned it. "Patch," I responded stonily. "How are you?"

"I've been better," For a moment, anger flashed in his dark eyes. "It's been trying, you can imagine."

For a moment, we sat in rigid silence. I felt awkward sitting next to someone I mutually hated, talking about how their day had been. Patch watched me fumble for something to say.

I decided on something solid. "What do you want?" When Patch raised one eyebrow, I continued, "You didn't sit down here just to say hi. You want something from me, and I bet it has something to do with Nora."

His eyes glittered. "Give the mutt a treat."

My blood boiled.

"Nora doesn't remember you," he stated bluntly.

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

Patch rolled his eyes. "Nora doesn't remember you, or me, or any details of the past five months."

"Why?"

He ignored me question. "I'd like it to stay that way."

"What?"

"I don't want you to talk to her. Don't contact her. Leave her alone."

I scowled. "You can't tell me to do that. You have no right to keep me from talking to Nora." I lowered my voice. "You're not the only one who cares about her, you know."

For a moment, something like grief flickered across his face. It was gone in a heartbeat. "I mean it, halfbreed. Stay away from her."

"I don't understand," I shook my head. "You should want Nora to remember." You benefit from it, I thought bitterly. She loves you.

"Nora shouldn't have been pulled into this," Patch voiced my earlier thoughts. "I'm giving her a chance to walk away from it all."

"Even if it kills you for her to forget you," I realized. Patch's grim silence confirmed my suspicions. "I can't promise that." I said quietly.

Nora deserved a second chance, but was it really fair to keep the truth from her? And besides, how did Patch know she couldn't remember anything in the first place?


End file.
